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“I don’t want anyone to feel like their choice is side with us or die. We have to stand for something better than the Shadow League.”
Nova shook her head. “Who’d have thought it—Colby Reynolds, Mystic River’s answer to a gangster, is really a romantic idealist at heart.”
Colby grinned ruefully. “I’d appreciate you keeping that to yourself. At some point I’m going to have to come clean, but for now, the fewer people who know what I’m really up to the better.”
“So you’re just another arms dealer selling us weapons?” teased Amelia.
“That’s me,” Colby laughed. “Just your average, friendly neighborhood arms dealer, which by the way leads me to something we need to start thinking about…”
“Who’s in charge?” said Mark, nodding.
“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, Mark, we would be so far behind the eight ball without your return and kicking the others in the butt, but it’s about to get big and about to get serious. We’ve been responding to threats and inroads by the League on a catch-as-catch-can basis.”
“As Mason would have said, we’re playing defense not offense,” said Carson.
“We are. I think we need some kind of tribunal or war council—something with checks and balances running our various areas. Mark, you’re the natural for general command…”
“No, Colby, you have the best overall picture,” protested Mark.
“What about Deke?” suggested Carson. “He seems to have a good handle on things and can move around pretty freely.”
“That’s a good idea,” agreed Mark.
Colby smiled. “So we have our first member, but Mark you need to be in the group—a lot of the resistance is centered in Vulpecula. Carson, you’ve got to be on board because of the research, and frankly, Amelia has to be involved because of air support. That’s going to be critical, not from a fighter jet dogfight in the sky, but getting things and people where they need to be.”
“That makes four,” said Nova. “I don’t know about the rest of you, and it can stay within the group for now, but Colby, you have to be in. Your intelligence network is second to none.”
“Agreed,” the others said in unison.
There was a pause. “That’s it, then. Deke will head up the group, with his seconds being Colby, Carson, Mark, and Amelia,” said Nova, lifting her glass. “And they shall be called the Fire Star Alliance.”
“Fire Star Alliance,” repeated the others one by one as they raised their glasses as well.
.
CHAPTER21
CARSON
One Week Later
He stood in the same spot where Zach Grayson had taken his vows to his fated mate, Sienna, not so very long ago. So much had happened in such a short time. He’d come to realize the company he worked for was actually a front and doing perverted research for a group of dark shifters known as the Shadow League. He had met and claimed his fated mate, Amelia, and lost his twin brother, Mason. He had become one of those leading the resistance movement known as the Fire Star Alliance and was now involved in planning what he believed to be a rescue operation for those he had left behind. Construction and renovation on the land and buildings granted to him and known as Polaris had begun.
Now he stood waiting for Amelia. He mused to himself that if the women involved with the resistance were any indication of ability, dedication, and hard work, the Shadow League didn’t stand a chance. A week ago none of them had even known Amelia; in a very short period of time, they had put together the wedding of Amelia’s dreams—dreams Amelia hadn’t even known she had.
Colby’s top pilot had been dispatched to Bellingham to fly the contracts Amelia had in place and to keep her company running. Phoebe, Amelia’s able assistant, had been given a promotion and had felt there was too much to do with Amelia relocating to Alaska. As part of Phoebe’s upgraded compensation package, Amelia had included allowing her to live in her waterfront condo, arranging for only a handful of cherished possessions to be flown to the cottage.
His inner reflections were interrupted when the entire crowd of guests that had been milling around went quiet. He looked up and thought he saw the embodiment of every romantic fantasy he’d ever had—and she was his fated mate. The long-sleeve lace ballgown was elegant, sophisticated, sexy, and sparkled in the late afternoon sun. He wasn’t sure how it was done; the skirt seemed to float, as did the delicate patterns created throughout the dress. She’d told him a lot of the dress was made of something called ‘tulle.’ He wasn’t sure what that was, but he was a big fan. Layers of the stuff, sprinkled with lace and sequins created a frothy, sparkling creation that was ethereal, bohemian, and absolutely perfect.
She joined him in front of the officiant. “You look like you’re going to faint,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
“The shoulder wound is all but healed. I’m fine. You just took my breath away, but then, you always do.”
They took their vows and danced, entertained, and laughed the night away. At one point, Amelia wrapped her arms around him from the back. “He’s here, you know. He’s here with us at Polaris and in everything we do.”
Carson nodded. “I feel him too. Sometimes it’s like I forget he’s gone—like I can almost reach down the link—and then it’s gone.”
The following morning came all too early, with only thoughts of finding erotic pleasure and solace in his mate’s arms, the sound of his cell phone ringing with the theme song from theMission Impossiblefranchise—the ringtone he’d assigned to Colby—was not wanted or needed. He picked up the phone, thought about tossing it into the wall, and growled as Amelia plucked it from his hand.
